Ron's First Flight
by starspangledpumpkin
Summary: Ron decides to go with Hermione to Australia to find her parents. The first step is actually getting on a plane. For the Houses Competition.


**Hufflepuff  
Seventh Year**

 **Category: Drabble**

 **Prompt: [Event] First airplane flight, [Time] 8:12, [Speech] "I don't want to go."**

 **Word Count: 726 (on Google docs)**

"Come on, Ron," said Hermione urgently. "We don't want to be late for our flight. Do you have your passport?"

"Yes, I have it," said Ron, digging it out of his pocket to show her.

"What time is it?" his girlfriend asked.

"Two minutes since the last time you asked," he said, looking at his pocket watch. "It's 7:40. We still have time."

Had Hermione not been anxious and storming through the airport, Ron might've marveled at the place. The amount of people there from all over the world waiting to fill up giant metal machines that flew higher than any broom could. He might've been twisting and turning, wondering why Muggles couldn't use smaller methods of transportation like Port-keys. Wondering why he and Hermione weren't using that method.

Instead, he was trying not to lose sight of Hermione's mass of curly brown hair in the crowd. He had tried holding onto her hand, but she kept pulling away to check their tickets and passports and itinerary, so he just gave up.

With the Wizard War finally over and Hermione finishing up her Seventh Year of Hogwarts, she wanted to find her parents in Australia. When Ron heard what she did, he had secretly wished he could do the same for his parents and little sister. Sent them somewhere out of harm's way, far from Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

They reached Gate 32C at promptly 8:12 when the flight attendants were opening the big metal door. Hermione pushed Ron's ticket into his hand and queued up. It took them nearly twenty minutes to get on the plane and find their seats in the middle of the plane next to the window. Ron felt a little claustrophobic in the tight space, his long legs digging into the seat in front of him. The humming of the engines drowned out most noise and the cold air made him shiver. Hermione helped him buckle his seat, as if he needed help, before buckling her own.

Before long, the plane was moving, and a flight attendant was running through the emergency routine.

Ron looked out the window. He had flown before, but last time it was a car and they weren't going that high or that far. When he was twelve it seemed like an eternity, but now…

"How long is our flight?" he asked Hermione.

"Twenty-five hours," she said, flipping open her book.

"I'm sorry, _how long_?" he squawked.

"Oh, don't fuss it'll go by fast," she said. "Look the plane is already taking off."

Ron's stomach lurched as the plane picked up speed. He reached out and snatched up Hermione's hand.

"I don't want to go," he said before he could stop himself.

She snorted. "It's a little late for that, love. You fly all the time!"

"Yes, but I have control then!"

He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth as the plane shuddered and ascended in the air. The tray in front of him fell open, smacking his knees, and he felt himself jostled around. He dealt with fifteen minutes of this and, finally, the plane steadied out. The seatbelt sign turned off and a flight attendant started rolling a drink cart down the aisle.

"Alright?" Hermione asked.

Ron peered out the window and exhaled silently. The morning sun shone on the clouds and far away he could see the city and then the suburbs and then farm houses. From up here, everything looked so… peaceful. Things hadn't been that way for a long time. Maybe this wasn't so bad.

"Yeah," he said, smiling a little and turning to look at Hermione. Her brown eyes nearly glowed in the sunlight. "I'm good."

She smiled and kissed his nose. "Good."

An hour into the flight, the plane shuddered horribly and the fasten seatbelt sign flashed on.

"Folks, we're experiencing a little bit of turbulence," came a voice from the ceiling. "Please remain in your seats."

Ron felt less okay and gripped his arm rests. At the same time, the person behind him started kicking his seat in an attempt to recline. Somewhere a baby began to cry. Hermione paid no mind to the chaos, merely turning to the next page of her book and grabbing her cup of tea before it could fall off her tray.

Ron made up his mind. Flying sucked.


End file.
